Every Monday morning, for the last two years, I have been sitting in front of my teacher Candace Silvers. This Monday morning is the first that I am not. I am sitting in Starbucks with my pup- just sitting. My mind, as silly as it is, wonders to the ‘what next’ question.
These last two years happened, right? All of the crying, laughing, ass kicking, the miracles; they’re all apart of me, and yet I can’t see them in my memory bank, but I can feel them like fire on my hand as I reach closer to the flame. I close my eyes and I am engulfed by this huge splash of water coming towards my face. However, this splash doesn’t swallow me hole. It is as if time has become so slow while I was standing at the edge of a pool two years ago, about to dive in, and now, today, moving at each moment in time, my hands are just at the surface of the water entering this new vortex. As I feel the water splashing up droplet by droplet, molecule by molecule towards my nose, this new point of view is so clear. I can see the ledge that I jumped off of; the air that lifts me up; the blue water waiting for me lifetimes away.
Candace has given me these tools to live a life full of bliss, sadness and joy coinciding in duality, with strength more than a 22 year old could even think of holding. I am more now than what I ever thought I would be, ever. Thank you, Candace.